Of Tragedies And Romance
by Blood57
Summary: Draco is left parentless after his father's actions and Draco’s impulsiveness. Hermonie is left parentless after a strategic accident. Both are declared head boy and girl. Both are depressed. Both need comfort. Support. Love. Rated R MAINLY for language
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Draco is left parentless after his father's actions and Draco's impulsiveness. Hermonie is left parentless after a strategic accident. Both are declared head boy and girl. Both are depressed. Both need comfort. Support. Love. (Not your average h+d story where on minute they're fighting and the next they're making out) R+R THANK YOU!!! ^_^                                                                   

11/16/02

Disclaimer: I own nothing

**Of Tragedies And Romance**

Chapter One 

**Blood57******

Draco's P.O.V.

I quickly locked the door. I was too shocked to scream, and too scared that he'd figure out where I was. Lucius was smart, but then again, he would never imagine me hiding in the house elf's cleaning cupboard, even if he eliminated all of my old hiding places, for they changed with every beating. _He killed her. That BASTARD! HE JUST KILLED HER!_ It kept playing over and over in my head. A tear dripped from my eye and onto my lips. I could taste the salt. It stung slightly as it continued to run down my chin, over my freshly open cut, and as it hit the dirty old mop next to the cabinet, I began to break down, my knees buckling. 

The last time I had ever cried was when I was 5, when the beatings began to scar much more than just my body, when they began to scar my brain. (That was the day I finally concluded that I was going to kill him.) I would never sniff when I cry because of the fact that I wasn't really sure how to do that and because of the fact that if I did, he would surely find me. (After all, his aging made him rely on the only sense he _ironically "_doesn't" have [A/N: He never listens to anyone, yet his aging makes him rely on his sense of hearing – get it? By the way, he's not really aging that much, it's just that he was already old, like 48, so...]) I just let the tears flow freely as I shriveled up into the little corner of the cupboard. It felt so good to just let loose and set myself free. 

I scolded myself for thinking of this as a good thing, especially when I'm crying over _her_ dead body. The one woman I loved. The one women that showed me that it was capable for a Malfoy to love, or at least for me because _he_ sure as hell wasn't capable of loving, or else he wouldn't have killed her in the first place. She was the one woman who I adored, who gave meaning to my life, who kept me going on, kept me from killing myself, kept me from killing him. 

But she was gone, and I would surely kill him. I didn't care; I knew where he kept the key to his vault. I'd get the key, kill him and get the fuck out of there. I'd go to Gringotts, get the money, and buy myself a flat as far away from the manor as possible. As for the fact that I wouldn't have a father – well, I wouldn't miss him or his beatings. I wanted him dead ever since I was 5, but I was too scared and weak. But I wasn't scared now, and I wasn't weak either. I gripped my wand firmly, and straightened up. I walked towards the knob, but I heard a creak from downstairs. I could hear footsteps coming up. 

"Draco," he whispered, "Where are you?" he asked in a playful tone. I mentally guffawed sarcastically.

"Only a coward would run away," he said, dropping the playful voice.

_So, only a coward would run away. What's your point? If I were courageous, I'd be in Gryffindor with all the other fucks, wouldn't I? Even a Gryffindor would be scared to take this, so what's your point?_ I thought.

I quickly took my wand out, holding it in a ready position. I heard him coming towards the cupboard.

"Don't cry for her, she wasn't worth it," he said. I felt a ripple of fury seized through me and before I knew it, rage and anger had overcome me. That did it. I opened the cupboard. There was only a split second in which he looked into my eyes and I could sense fear. For once in my life, I was the stronger one and for once in my life, I would get revenge. This would be the one time he wished he hadn't taught me everything he knew (and even more) Forgetting that I had magic, I launched myself onto him. Once punch was all it took to knock him out, but I continued until there was so much blood that I could have swam in it. I took the wand that lay in his now limp hand and snapped it in half, throwing it by his side. 

I rested for one minute. Oh, I wasn't finished; I'd give the word rage a new meaning. He would wake up in a minute or so and he'd wish that he could just die –_ he would, except by murder..._I reminded myself. He began to stir awake. He looked around and met my eyes. He quickly got up, and looked down at his broken wand. Eyes wide, nostrils flared, he started taking a few steps back.

"Leaving so soon, father?" I asked in an almost maniacal tone.

"I- well, um..." he began.

"You're going to suffer just like we both did," I told him.

"Now Draco - " he began, but I cut him off.

"It doesn't feel so good to be powerless verse someone stronger and faster than you, does it? Especially when that someone is so full of...what's the word I'm looking for?"

"Love" he said hopefully. I smirked, and let out a snort.

"Rage" I said in a slow, low voice, making sure that he got the gist. Well, if he didn't he would - soon.

"Where's her body?" I asked. He looked into my eyes, not saying anything.

"I asked you a question," I said. It was amazing how I could sound so much like my father, yet be so different from him.

"I did not move the body," he said, sounding as though he gained some confidence. He wouldn't have just said " **the **(body)" unless he thought he had a chance. It was suddenly apparent why. A popping sound could be heard. 

"My lord" he bowed down.

"Young Malfoy, why don't you bow?" the voice concealed by a red velvet hood questioned. 

"Because, Lord Voldemort, I was about to torture and then kill my father." My father looked up, as to asked Voldermort for help.

"I'm sorry," he said with a bit of sarcasm, "Proceed to do so, then." I bowed my head in a sign of gratitude, and turned to Lucius who looked petrified. 

"Crucio!" I yelled, pointing the wand at him. My face remained blank. I was enjoying seeing him in pain, but that feeling was canceled out by the memory of _her_ being under the crusio spell.

"Why did you bother to do so?" he asked me.

"Because he killed my– my-" I closed my eyes quickly, still holding my wand.

"Your...mother?" Voldemort said quietly. I let Lucius drop to the floor with a heavy slump.

"You –you knew –about, it –did –din' -didn't you?" I managed to say. 

"Lucius did mention something about punishing her...yes." Voldermort continued in the same low voice.

"And you didn't tell me?" I said my voice rising. I peaked out of the corner of my eye and saw my father stir awake again. I yelled crusio, and he was once more jerking in the corner.

"Yes, I thought it was for the best," he said.

"You –you thought it was for –for the bes- best?! You thought it was for the best? YOU THOUGHT IT WAS FOR THE BEST! What kind of stupid fuck are you?!" I yelled punching him in the head. He, unlike my father, seemed to be stronger than one punch. He was, however bleeding. Wasting no time I said the first thing that came to mind: _OBLIVIATE_! 

"Shit!" I yelled aloud. I didn't want to kill him, but I didn't really want to erase his memory either. If he had summoned the death-eaters, he would not act like himself, and they would suspect something. Lucious began to stir once again. I suddenly had an idea.

"Impirio!" I roared, pointing my wand at him. "Come with me" I said. We walked a short distance, until we got to my room. 

"Open the second drawer!" I commanded. He did so. "Now," I said, speaking clearly, "Take out the red velvet pouch." He did so. 

"Take the metal box that's inside the pouch." He let the velvet escape from his grip to reveal a small, handsome box that contained what would soon be both his and Voldemort's death. 

"Open the box," I said, and, with a click, the box snapped open, revealing a freshly, handcrafted dagger. The danger was incrusted with rubies (A/N: It's suppose to be Draco's birthstone, so just pretend it is, okay?) and there was writing on the blade:

M - Machiavellian

A - Authoritative

L – Legacy

F - Fortitude

O - Observant

Y – Yen 

"Stab Voldemort with the knife!" I said. He began to run back to where Voldemort was still lying. By the time I got there, Voldemort was dead. 

"Now, call the ministry of magic and report that there's been an break-in in your house!" (A/N: I don't know what wizard would do if there were an emergency, so...?) Once he had done so, I said: "Now dispose of Voldemort's body!" He picked up Voldemort's body and walked through the corridors. I followed for about ten minutes or so, until we were at the dungeons. He threw Voldemort's body into the dungeons.

"Listen very carefully," I instructed, "Go back to the corridor in which you were in before and stab yourself. Once you've stabbed yourself, take the knife and dispose of it!" Wasting no time, I ran upstairs to my mother's bedroom. I opened the door, but there was no sign of her. Within a second, I had my hands on the key to the vault. I opened my mom's closet and screamed as a dangling pale hand shook in front of me. He had tied her body on the hook. I began to cry, and unhooked her from the hook and laid her down on the bed. I inhaled quickly, and closed my eyes. I snapped them open as I searched for the floo powder in her drawer. I picked some off of the pouch and threw it into the fireplace (A/N: Which, continently enough was in her room.) jumped in and said "Knockturn Alley!" I landed with a thump in the back room, and got up. I cleaned the soot off of my shirt and spotted Mr. Borgins. I crept passed the bookshelves, and into the farthest corner of the store.

"Mr. Malfoy!" I heard his voice soon enough.

"Mr. Borgins," I said, "I'm a tad bit disappointed in you!"

"Why would that be?" he asked.

"Because," I said, "I've been looking around here for half an hour already, and you haven't even showed me your latest merchandise, let alone say hello!"

"But – didn't you just-" He began.

"No but's!" I said, "Now, what do you have for me." 

"I'm sorry Mr. Malfoy," he said happily, "But I'm afraid the tourists beat you to it!" 

"You seem happy about this," I said, picking up a velvet red pouch. Then, remembering what had just happened, I shook my head in disgust and returned the pouch to its stand.

"I'm happy that my business is doing so well," he explained, "Not that you were to late to buy anything," he continued, defending himself. 

"Well," I said, "I best be off. Got a lot of things to do." I said, walking towards the door.

"Tell your father I said hi!" Mr. Borgins said.

"Oh, I will, don't you worry," I said, walking out. 

***

It had been two months since the ministry had raided my house. Of course, all the dark arts shit that father had was hidden away, both in his vault at Gringotts, and in a concealed room that can only be accessible by a Malfoy. I still don't understand why they decided to raid the place, but then again, they might have thought that they could find some clues, but of course, there were none. They found my mother's body, but they just figured that she was killed after my father called the ministry. 

But the ministry thought that it was rather _peculiar_ that I was the only one that wasn't murdered. Of course they made this big deal to question me for my alibi, but I simply told them that I was with Mr. Borgins during that time. Mr. Borgins, though still sensing something suspicious, (A/N: alliteration – yes, yes – HAHA – no...no alliteration intended) simply stated (A/N: Yes, non-intended alliteration continues...) my alibi. The ministry actually wanted to put me in an orphanage, because they couldn't contact any of my relatives because of the fact that I didn't know where any of them where, but I refused flatly.  

"Can't I just buy myself a flat?" I asked Cornelius Fudge as we made plans on where to put me. "Or maybe I could at stay at my original house!" I suggested.

"But, you cannot support yourself - " he began.

"I'll get a job!" I said.

"Where would you get a job?" he asked. I raised an eyebrow, thinking that he emphasized the word "you" a little _too_ much. 

"Well, are there any openings in the Ministry?" I asked.

"I'll have to check, Mister Malfoy," He said.

He never did get back to me, so I decided to see Mister Barkins and ask him if I could work in the shop. He seemed too intimidated by my presence to refuse, so he just agreed. Since I was getting paid, I was allowed to stay in my original house. The house elves where still working about, trying to shove aside the fact that they only had one master. Then again, Lucius's insults and reminders for extra punishments might not have been missed by the house elves. But then, they would miss my mother's kindness. I blinked back a stinging sensation in my eyes, and continued to walk up to my room. 

I heard a little tapping sound as soon as I entered my room, and judging by the fact that there was an owl outside of my window pecking furiously at the glass, as thought trying to break it, I could tell it had been there for a while. I opened the window and allowed the owl to land on my desk. I untied the letter from its leg and petted it gently. It's eyes immediately melted, and it hooted softly. It flew out of my window and I sighed, wishing I could have just done the same. I watched it's graceful body soar out of sight. It was so carefree, so beautiful. I ran my hand through my hair, and, in the process, dropped the letter that I had subconsciously forgotten about on the floor. I picked it up and saw the official Hogwarts seal on it. Scratching my chin thoughtfully and raising an eyebrow, I opened the letter and scanned it aloud:

"Dear Mr. Malfoy...blah blah blah...Headboy...blah blah...responsibilities...and Headgirl will share a room for the year...think this over greatly...please respond A.S.A.P..." I looked down at the letter for one minute. The word "Headgirl" was instinctively visible. 

_Who's Headgirl this year?_ I wondered. I rolled my eyes, sighing. _As long as it's not a giggly, gossipy, sluty, P.M.S.ing bitch, I'm safe. This is gonna be one hell of a non-sociable year. _I sat down in my chair, and began to write:

Dear Professor Dumbledore,

I would be delighted to take the position as Headboy and its responsibilities. Thank you very much for considering me as Headboy. I think this year will be full of adventure. Once again, thank you for considering me as Headboy.

                                                                                             Sincerely,

Draco Malfoy

Hermonie's P.O.V.

            Dear Hermonie,

It's fantastic that you're Headgirl! This is going to be the best year ever. Maybe you can meet Ron and I later in Diagon Alley. Gotta go (Don't do _too_ much work!)

                                                                                                                        Much love,

Harry

I looked down at the letter and sighed. I guess they didn't know about _it_ yet. Then again, how could they, if I never told them yet? 

_Why haven't you told them yet? _A voice inside of my head said. _Just forget it!_

I suddenly went over to my desk, took out a c.d., grabbed my keys and headed towards the door. 

"Dear, where are you going?" My Aunt Melissa asked.

"I'm going for a drive, Aunt Melissa. Is that okay?" I asked softly.

"Sure, just take your cell phone so you can call me if you need me," she said, handing it to me as I opened the door.

"Thanks, Aunt Melissa. And thanks again – for everything. I'm sorry for all the trouble I've caused by coming here." I said.

"Oh nonsense! You're no trouble at all! It's my pleasure to have you here dear!" She said, smiling. I smiled and close the door. I opened the door to my 1968 red porche and put the c.d. in the tray, causing the music to blast. I felt a sigh of relief as my thoughts and worries were drowned out by the band. The tires screeched as they made their way through the pavement. 

"HEY!" someone called. I paused the music and looked around. 

"Hey," I said softly. "Where are you going?"

"I was just headed back home," said Richard, Aunt Melissa's son. "Where were you going?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Just for a drive? Wanna come with me?" I asked. 

"Sure," he said, "Let me just go park my car," He said, flashing a pearly white smile towards me. He was back within a minute. 

"Is this Hybrid Theory?" he asked, nodding his head towards the music.

"Yeah," I answered, "I have Reanimation and Meteora in there too," I said, nodding my head towards the compartment in front of him. "You a fan?" I asked.

"Yeah," he said bobbing his head as "With You" came on.

_I woke up in a dream today  
To the cold of the static and put my cold feet on the floor  
Forgot all about yesterday  
Remembering I'm pretending to be where I'm not anymore  
A little taste of hypocrisy  
And I'm left in the wake of the mistake slow to react  
Even though you're so close to me  
You're still so distant  
And I can't bring you back_

I suddenly hit the forward button – hard, causing my finger to jam. My eyes widened as my eyebrows shot up, as did Richard's. 

_Why did I just do that?_ I thought as I recognized the next song as "By Myself". _Because you heard the words "I can't bring you back", _the annoying voice inside my head said. 

I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply, grasping the steering wheel. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see that Richard had figured out why I had just hit the forward button. In an effort to distract myself, I took out my green Gucci glasses and put them on. I looked at Richard and I realized that he concluded that he best be off not commenting on why I had just changed the song.

"So," I said, trying to make conversation, "How's school?"

"Good," he said, "I'm graduating this year!"

"Yeah, me too!" I said, smiling. There was a moment of silence, in which the words "I can't hold on, to what I want when I'm stretched so thin" where clearly heard. I blinked back what appeared to be tears as the words "It's all too much to take in" echoed through the air. I took off my glasses and put them back in their case. By then, I had finished my drive around the block, but Richard and I stood frozen in the car. 

"It's all my fault!" I said, and I began to cry, stopping the music. He frowned heavily. 

"Hermonie, it's not your fault! You _know_ that!" he said, trying to comfort me.

"It _is_! If it wasn't for me and my big mouth - " I began, sniffing.

"Don't" Richard said, shaking his head, "It wasn't because of you," he continued firmly.

"_I_ was the one who suggested that they go out. _I_ was the one that told them that they deserved a break. It was _me_! ME! If it wasn't for me, they would still-" but I couldn't finish the sentence. I began to cry again. Richard stroked my hair as I stained his Armania shirt with fresh tears mixed with mascara and pink (strawberry-flavored) Lancôme lip-gloss.

"You had good intentions," he said softly. I looked up at him.

"Yeah, and look where it got them!" I said angrily. I put my head back on his shirt, but he lifted my chin up.

"Don't you _ever_…**_ever_** blame yourself for what happened," he said. I looked into his eyes, my lips trembling. I stopped crying. I blinked quickly. He lowered his lips onto mine. I felt his breath against my face. His lips caught mine, and in less than a second, his tongue was in my mouth. It felt so right, that I didn't jerk away, but instead, I came closer, putting one hand on the back of his head, and another on the back of his neck and pulling him forward. The kiss continued, but was broken off when Richard accidentally put his elbow on the steering wheel. It honked loudly – well, actually, I just thought it was loud because my ear was pressed against it. As we straightened up, I looked at Richard. He grinned sheepishly, showing off his dimples. I "combed" my hair with my hand. Richard opened the door and got out. He went over to my side of the car and held out a hand for me, after opening the door for me.

"Thank you," I said, taking his hand.

"You're welcome," he said, showing off his dimples again.

***

"Well," I said, closing the car door behind me, "This is it. I'm going to miss you. Have fun this year, and don't work too hard, it's your last year," I chuckled at my last statement – just tying to imagine ME doing taking my own advice was absolutely impossible.

"I'll miss you too," he said, hugging me tightly. He then surprised me with a quick kiss on the lips, and without another word, he left. It surprised me that he had kissed me, because ever since our first kiss, we had been avoiding each other. Sure, there was a mutual attraction between us, but for different reasons. I wasn't sure what his was, maybe it was my body, maybe it was my personality, or maybe it was just me. Mine, on the other hand, was strictly procrastination – a procrastination from reality, a procrastination from facing the truth, a procrastination from getting on with my life. Sighing, I idly dragged my luggage with me. I casually leaned against the barrier – I didn't want to run, in fear that I would not stop once I started. I continued to carry my luggage onto the train.

"Are you Miss Granger?" asked a short man I had never seen before.

"Um...yes – may I help you?" I asked. _May I help you?_ I repeated to myself, _How stupid can I get?_ I waited for the man's response.

"Follow me, I will show you to your private compartment," he said. I didn't really pay attention to where we were going, I was just grateful that I had an excuse to not socialize with anyone.

"Here you are miss," he said.

"Thank yo-" I began to say, but he was already gone. Shrugging I unbolted the latch on the door and put my luggage in the over-head compartment. When I finished, I was startled to see a muscular figure in the compartment. _So long for a PRIVATE compartment,_ I thought. The figure was laying down on the far edge of the bench. 

It was definitely a boy, because there wouldn't be two headgirls. He was curled up into a ball. A shadow was cast upon him, but even through the thick darkness that had soaked him, I could tell that he was sleeping. I wondered why he hadn't slept on the bench, but instead decided to isolate himself and curl up into a ball in the far corner of the compartment. I took a seat opposite the figure. I still hadn't figured out who he was. He began to stir awake. 

I pretended to be looking for something in my bag, so as to distract myself from him. I pretended that I had been looking for a quill, and pocketed it. By this time he was already up, and after re-zipping my bag, I looked up at him. It was Draco Malfoy. It was odd – we had been staring at each other for what seemed like an hour, yet neither of us had said any nasty remarks. Draco was the first to break the ice.

"Hello Hermione," Draco said, his voice barley higher than a whisper.

"Hello," I tried to say warmly, but mixed with all the confusing, the greeting sounded stale and dry. I could tell Draco was trying to think of something to say, for his eyes were darting back and forth.

"How was yo-" he began, but stopped abruptly. His expression seemed to mirror one that someone would use if they had been branded. I knew he was going to ask how my summer had been, and I flinched slightly. He tried to change the sentence.

"How are you?" he asked.

"Fine – and you?" I asked.

"I'm okay," he said nodding. Just then there was a knock on the door. I got up and looked through the peephole (Draco didn't seem to care, for he didn't follow me). It was Harry and Ron. _I can't face them NOW,_ I thought. I must have worn an expression of great pain, for Draco asked who it was.

"It's...its Ron and Harry," I sighed, and went back to the bench.

"Are you in a fight with them?" he asked gently.

"No," I shook my head, "Why?"

"No reason," he answered, "I just thought that it was odd that you didn't want to talk to them if you weren't in a fight," his voice began to grow hoarse. "You know, you can still talk to them if I'm here. If you want, I can leave until you finish," he offered. _Why is he being so…KIND?_

"No," I shook my head, "I don't want you to leave – it's fine. Thanks for the offer though," I said. He nodded his head. There was a continuous knock on the door, and I could hear Harry and Ron talking outside.

"Ron, stop, maybe they're sleeping in there," Harry said.

"Sleeping – Hermione – Malfoy – In the same room – together – Hermione – MALFOY!!!!!" Ron's knocks became louder.

"Will you please just STOP Ron!" Harry said abruptly.

"Fine, we'll come back in an hour!" he said stubbornly.

"Fine," Harry said, giving up. Hermione shook her head and rolled her eyes in annoyance. Hermione looked over at Draco, who had curled back in his tiny corner. She wondered why he was being so serene and kind towards her. _He's probably just tired,_ Hermione assured herself.

A/N: So...what do you think? I'm working on chapter 2, but its sort of hard because I'm also working on my other story, "Confused", so THAT'S taking up more of my time. I might not be able to update this story for another week or so, so in the mean time, occupy yourselves by reading my other story, "Confused". THANK YOU AND PLEASE REVIEW!!! Thank you for everyone that reviewed, and a special thanks to Nanako (dragon_memories@hotmail.com) for that benevolent review – I REALLY appreciate it and, as you requested, you can get an e-mail from fanfiction filling you in on my story updates if you check the box titled "Add Author To Author Alert" when you review. 

** DON'T FORGET TO CHECK OUT "CONFUSED" BY BLOOD57!!! **

*^~^*BLOOD57*^~^*


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Draco is left parentless after his father's actions and Draco's impulsiveness. Hermonie is left parentless after a strategic accident. Both are declared head boy and girl. Both are depressed. Both need comfort. Support. Love. (Not your average h+d story where on minute they're fighting and the next they're making out) R+R THANK YOU!!! ^_^                                                          

Disclaimer: I own nothing!

6/15/03

**Of Tragedies And Romance**

Chapter Two 

Draco's P.O.V.

"Draco," Goyle's thick voice didn't conceal the foolish aura that he possessed. "Um, Draco – are you in there?" I could just imagine Goyle scratching his head. I chuckled, picturing myself saying "No" and Goyle searching elsewhere for me. I reached for the pillow on the bench and put it over my head in a futile attempt to drown his voice out.

"Draco," Goyle's low voice continued to boom. I groaned, annoyed at the fact that the idiotic boy would not leave me be.

"He's probably not even in there," Crabbe piped up.__

"Unless he's raping Granger!" Goyle said, rather excitedly. I had a sudden urge to open the door and sedate the horrid monster that thought of himself as my friend. I threw the pillow on the floor in pure frustration.

"Down boy, DOWN!" I heard someone whisper. I tried hard not to burst out laughing, but I managed a hearty chuckle instead.

"Ignore them," I told Hermione, "They're complete dumba-"

"Yeah," she cut in, "I know," she said, smiling. It was a bit odd - Crabbe and Goyle had just mentioned the idea of me raping Hermione, and yet – ironically – here we were, laughing together (well, she was laughing). It surprised me that she was not showing any trace of detestation, or abomination, for that matter. But then again, I wasn't the one who had suggested something as vile as Goyle's obtuse comment.

~*~*~

The rest of the ride went by uneventfully. Well, unless you count Potter and Weasley coming by to see Hermione no less that fifteen times to be an event, than yes – the train ride was _very_ eventful. She didn't seem very interested in talking to them. If I weren't mistaken, I would have thought that she might have been avoiding them.  I was avoiding Crabbe and Goyle too, but at least I had a reason, I mean – Crabbe and Goyle are complete morons, but – then again, Potter and Weasley weren't the sharpest tools in the shed. 

I'd ask Hermione why she was avoiding them, but she didn't seen to be in a state fit for talking. Besides, I bet she'd rather tell Snape her deepest, darkest secret before trusting me. And I _wasn't_ proud of that. I was nothing more than a cold-hearted, arrogant bastard (no pun intended) towards her for the past six years. Yet – those few minutes after Crabbe and Goyle had come looking for me (again, no pun intended), we had had a civilized conversation (yes, I think that making fun of Goyle counts as a civilized conversation) I didn't think about it anymore, but slumped back against the bench into an uneasy sleep, as the train seemed to make it it's personal mission to rock violently.

~*~*~

"Draco," a soft voice spoke hurriedly, as I heard someone bustling about in the compartment. _Hermione,_ my brain registered. My eyes fluttered open rather hastily. Hermione was bustling around the compartment, swishing her long robes about.

"Wha–"

"We were supposed to get off of the train five minutes ago!" _Shit,_ I thought, _Dumbledore is going to kill us! _I could hear the rustling of things as I got up, and I knew she was organizing everything that she had precariously scattered around the compartment during the train ride. She closed her trunk quickly and opened the compartment door, holding it open for me.

"Thank you," I said, stepping out of the compartment with her. We broke into a run until we reached the end of the compartment. Once we got out, I spotted an empty carriage ahead of us. In fact, it was the only carriage on the grounds. We got in, and it started moving. For a moment, I looked at the thestrals. (A/N: There will be an explanation for why Draco can see them later! Be patient!) I shook my head, trying to focus on something else.

"Thank you for waking me up Hermione," I said, "but why didn't you just go on without me?" Did my eyes deceit me, because sitting before me was a slightly pink, speechless Hermione. Had I missed a vital point? She seemed to regain her composure rather quickly, however.

"I couldn't leave you behind, you would've kept on sleeping," she managed, scratching her cat (which I had just noticed was in the carriage) behind the ear in an attempt to avoid the question at hand.

"Again, why did you care?" I asked, but it sounded dull, for there was no emotion in my voice.

"I – I'm not a heartless bitch, you know – you looked tired, and...well – I'm sure you wouldn't want to miss the feast and the sorting and – um...well..."

"Thank you," I said, sparing her of any more embarrassment. I didn't _mean_ to embarrass her, I was just curious as to why she would care about leaving me on the train if, in fact, I _was_ a cold-hearted, arrogant bastard towards her. I guess she was just a good person, and I shouldn't have put her through the hell that I did. Now that Lucius was gone, and Voldermort was too, for that matter, there really was no point of singling out purebloods from muggles, so it didn't really matter. 

The only reason I had done so was to convince Lucius that I did not need to go to any of the Death Eater meetings because there was "mudblood abhorrence" (as he called it) running through my blood. It would not look well if I was nice or even neutral towards a muggle, especially since Lucius had spies at Hogwarts. 

But that was all over now, I was my own person, and I would not take commands from a man whose only means of expressing himself was through screaming and beating. (Or from a dead man, for that matter) The slight movement coming from Hermione's side of the carriage told me that we had reached the castle. I gathered my things and broke into a run (closely followed by Hermione) up to the castle. We made it in time – everyone had just walked in along with us.

"Here's where I leave you," I told her, nodding my head slightly, and (unfortunately) turning to my posse, which I happened to despise. I slowly began walking towards them, but someone put a hand on my shoulder. Turning around, I realized it was Hermione. 

"I think we should go see Dumbledore and apologize for oversleeping. We were supposed to give instructions to the prefects, and he might not think that we're serious about this whole Headboy and Headgirl thing," she added, looking pleadingly at me. _Why is she...never mind,_ I snapped at myself mentally.

"Yeah, okay," I nodded. I didn't have anything better to do, and the less time spent with "the posse", the better, even if it was just a five-minute difference.

"Professor Dumbledore," Hermione said quietly, while everyone was still talking. We had taken him aside to the corner of the room, but we hadn't attracted much attention, because there were still some people talking to others from different houses, and hardly anyone was sitting down.

"I'm sorry that we were not at the Heads meeting" Hermione began.

_Damn_, I thought, _who gave the prefects instructions? Now he's going to re-assign out posts for sure! _

_"_I just lost track of the time and Draco overslept," she continued, motioning a hand towards me. I inhaled while the Headmaster looked us over. When he did not say anything, Hermione continued.

"We didn't mean to, it just happened and-"

"I am aware of the circumstances that you both had to go through during the summer, and one day of oversleeping," he looked at me, his eyes twinkling in what appeared to be recognition, as though he knew what had happened over the summer, "and loosing track of time," he looked back at Hermione, "will not be a punishable offense unless you make it a daily habit!"

"No professor," I shook my head before Hermione could say anything, "Thank you professor!"

"Thank you professor," Hermione also said, turning around to go. She stopped dead, catching my eye. My face became rigid. I would not show my emotions through my eyes, it simply would not happen. Being a son of a death eater had taught me a number of useful things and transfer of emotion was one of these things. I would not show my weakness, I would not show my fear, I would not show my anger and I would not show my grief. 

Hermione seemed to be searching through my eyes, but I would not let her know. She seemed to be thinking the same thing that I was: _What had happened over the summer?_ Surely she had not suffered a terrible loss like I had...had she? Maybe her cousin or her uncle died. How was I to know? I was just a Malfoy to her – she would never confide in me. Hermione stopped searching my eyes, and said:  
  


"Well, I'm glad he didn't punish us."

"Yeah," I stretched the word, absorbed in my thoughts. The tone of my voice was enough evidence for her to realize that I was not really paying attention. I stole a quick glance at her, thinking: _What HAD happened to her over the summer? Wait a minute – why do I CARE? Why am I being a heartless bastard again? I SHOULD care what happened to her over the summer. Maybe she needs someone to talk to._ I did not have any more time to mull over the question, for a sharp voice caught my ears.

"Mr. Malfoy, Miss Granger" Professor McGonagall said. I had not noticed that she was right in front of us. 

"After the feast you will lead your houses to the common room, with the assistance of your house prefects. The head of your houses will give you and your house prefects the password. You do not really need to know the passwords, but in case someone from your house comes to you and asks you for it – it would be a good idea to know it. After you make sure that all the students are in the common room, you will report back to the head of your house and they will take you to your rooms. If you wish to be with your friends in your common room for a while – that's fine, but first – you must set up your password for the headquarters that you will be sharing. The letters that were sent to you over the summer have already informed you about your headquarters."

I mentally reviewed it in my head: _Two bedrooms_ (one for each of the Heads [*See a/n on the bottom]), _one " common room" and one bathroom._

"I would advise you to catch up with your peers tomorrow rather than going through all the trouble of going all the way to your common rooms and then back, because your rooms are in the South Wing." (A/N: I don't know if there even IS a South Wing. The point is it takes a LONG time to get from their headquarters to their House common rooms)

"Professor, will there be an occasion when we MUST go to our common rooms?" I asked. Hermione looked at Professor McGonagall expectantly, as though she had asked the question herself.

"I'm afraid not Mr. Malfoy," she answered, looking a little sad. 

_She makes it sound like a bad thing that I'm not obliged to go to the common rooms,_ I thought, _though it really is a plus. All I have to do is say that I have official Heads business and I never have to see Pansy or Blaise or anyone else again...unless they got into all of the advanced classes. But, I doubt that._

"MR. MALFOY!" Professor McGonagall shouted, as Hermione nudged me.

"What?" I asked, snapping out of my thoughts.

"I SAID," she spoke in a tone that suggested that I had not been listening to her, "that you can go and ask Professor Snape what the password for the Slytherin common room is so that you know beforehand!" Professor McGonagall look behind me pointedly and I saw Professor Snape striding towards us. I nodded my head towards Professor McGonagall to reassure her that I had heard her, and walked over to Professor Snape.

"Professor -" I began.

"Legacy...the password is legacy," he said, before exiting the room in a hurry. _That was odd,_ I thought, _even for HIM. Legacy – that was what the letter "L" stood for on the knife..._I stopped, breathing deeply. _Get it together Draco! It's just a coincidence._

~*~*~

The sorting went by quicker than usual. Mainly because of the fact that it was the smallest group of kids for the sorting I had ever seen, but all the same. Pansy was unusually quiet, and seemed to have a sad look in her eyes whenever I glanced at her. I had snapped at her last year and told her to shut up, but I had not known that she would take it so literally that she would shut up during the entire feast, let alone eternally – although, ultimately, that wasn't such a bad idea. (And besides, I hadn't told her to not say a word from the time that I had told her off until the sorting. I wonder if she was dumb enough to not say a word all summer long) Why wasn't she pestering me like she always did?

_The arranged marriage,_ I thought, _no wonder she's afraid of saying anything! She's afraid she'll aggravate me! (Because I had never actually told her that she was a nuisance until last year) She still thinks that it's on! But then again, she doesn't know that Lucius is dead._

Father (if I must) had set up an arranged marriage for Pansy and I a week after graduation. The only reason she wanted it was because of the Malfoy fortune that was always passed on to the heir – in this case, me – but now that Lucius was dead, I would not put up with pretending to like her. I would tell her that the marriage was off. I would tell her that he had found another, more suitable women for me. Whatever I would tell her – it didn't matter – the point was to make sure she understood to stop chasing after me. I actually felt a little bad for her – now she would go home as a disgrace – a women who was not "good enough" (so to speak) for a Malfoy. I even had a feeling that her parents might disown her. I had met them before – her mother didn't even seem to LIKE her daughter – let alone love her – and her father – god – I had never seen a man who was so heinous – well – besides Lucius. I bet he would sell off his daughter within a second if he were offered something profitable. But, I had other things to worry about – and Pansy was NOT on the list.

"I know!" Blaise's voice cut into my thoughts. One of the girls beside him (A/N: Is Blaise a boy...well – if she isn't – she is now...okay?) shrieked with laughter.

"They actually wrote that in the Daily Prophet?" Crabbe asked. "Poor Anthony," he said. Everyone eyed each other and within a second they were all cracking up.

I shook my head, annoyed at everyone who came within my range of vision.

_Wait a minute,_ I thought, _wouldn't' there be something written about Lucius and..._I gulped..._Lucius and mum's death in the Daily Prophet?_

True, I had not bothered to read it, but wouldn't ANY of the Slytherins have read it?

_This is the Slytherins you're talking about Draco – SLYTHERINS! People who torment for a living! _I thought. _Am I really like that? Am I just a stereotypical Slytherin? Just a blur of green and silver trepidation?_

"Draco," Pansy's voice dragged me back to reality, "could I talk to you for a second...outside," she said, looking pointedly over my shoulder, to the nearest exit. 

This was the perfect opportunity to tell her that the marriage was off. I nodded briefly, and followed her out of the door. She took my hand and led me out the door before I could protest. In any other case, there would have been catcalls and jeering from our table, but they seemed to have gotten the message (finally, after six years) that Draco Malfoy was not someone who you wanted to insult. Once we were outside the great hall, Pansy let out a sniff, as though she was about to cry.

"Oh Draco!" Pansy suddenly collapsed her head on my shoulder, expecting me to comfort her.

_What the fuck is going on!?_ I thought.

"I know," Pansy said, lifting her head up from my shoulder and revealing her tear-stained cheeks, "my parents told me about it!" she pulled out what appeared to be a clipping from the Daily Prophet. 

"My parents told me!" she repeated again. 

"I'm so sorry that they -" and she started crying, just as the words "Malfoy's Melee" flashed before my eyes, my brain registering everything. Pansy's parents had told her that mum and "dad" had died.

"Pansy –" I began, but she placed a finger on my lips to silence me. She had stopped crying, but her eyes were brimming with tears.

"Shh...it's okay. You can talk to me when you're ready," she said. Again, I began to speak, but she shook her head, placing a hand on my cheek while she used the other one to wipe her eyes. With a quick movement of her hand, she kissed me and went back to the great hall. I folded the Daily Prophet clipping and pocketed it. I quickly followed, and bumped into none other than the infamous Weasley. What in god's name he was doing at the Slytherin table – I could only imagine.

"Watch it, Malfoy!" He said "Malfoy" as though it was a curse. On some level – it WAS – there was no argument about that. I wasn't going to pick a fight – all I was going to do was what I had intended to do after I went back into the great hall – to find Pansy. But Weasley's next words caught me off guard.

"Did you have a good shag with your slut?" He looked as though he was expecting me to be offended. I didn't care about Pansy – I just pitied her. Obviously Weasley confused pity with care all the time...but I wouldn't go into that – I was in NO mood for a roaring Weasley temper.

"Just...fuck off – okay?" I said casually, as though it didn't matter to me, which – it didn't. Weasley clenched his fisted as always, his nostrils flaring.

"Ron – don't!" I heard someone say. Hermione's figure protruded from the shadows.

_What the hell are these Gryffindors doing at the Slytherin's table?_ I thought, confused at the sight of them.

"Why SHOULDN'T I? He DESERVES it!" Weasley said angrily.

"I didn't do anything-" I began.

"Yet!" He concluded for me.

"Look – just FUCK OFF!" I said a little more loudly than I had intended, though I had not aroused any attention. It seemed that everyone was either deaf, or did not dare look in my direction.

"Tut, tut Malfoy!" he said, waggling his index finger in my direction, "Your MOTHER," he emphasized, "wouldn't want you to use that kind of language, now would she? Not after what happened this summer," he whispered the last part so quietly that I could barley hear it. I looked up at his vivid smile. _That bastard! He knew! I'll kill him!_ I thought, quickly pushing him to the ground, _I'll fucking kill him!_ He grabbed my collar and it ripped, leaving him with a handful of white cotton.

"I'll kill you!" I screamed angrily, but someone grabbed my back. _Why the hell isn't anyone noticing any of this? _I thought angrily as I looked up at the rest of the tables. Everyone was enjoying their meal, oblivious to the fact that I was about to commit a murder. _Another murder,_ I corrected myself. Again, I scolded myself. _You don't know about that...just forget that THAT ever happened!_

"DON'T!" the same voice that spoke before said. _Hermione,_ I recognized her soft yet strong voice,_ why is she interfering?_

"You'll get in trouble and they'll take away your Headboy privileges!"

_Why in god's name is had she broken up the fight? Okay – so Weasley was her friend and she didn't want him to get in trouble – that I understand. But if she let ME attack him A – I'd get just the TIP of what would be my ultimate revenge and B – he's have an eye-witness that I was the one who started the fight – NOT him._

My thoughts seemed too much to take. I was feeling very light-headed, like I would collapse any second. Angry and confused at the same time, I stormed out of the great hall.

Shit, I thought, I don't even know where my new room is – where am I going to go? 

****

****

****

Hermione's P.O.V.

"Why do you have to be such a colossal jerk, Ron?" I asked angrily.

"A what?" he asked. I sighed heavily, and started to go out of the great hall, in an attempt to find Draco, who had stormed out of it just moments ago.

"Hermione, don't tell me you actually think that he DIDN'T deserve it!" Ron snorted in disbelief.

"He didn't do anything to you Ron! He just bumped into you! You were TRYING to pick a fight. Why – god only knows...you are so..." but I didn't finish – I had to find Draco.

"Hermione, don't go!" Ron called, but I was already gone.

I ran quickly down the corridor, hoping that Draco had not gone too far.

"Draco? Draco where are you?" I called out.

_If I were Draco, where would I be?_ I thought. Seeing as how that wasn't going to help, I continued to search the corridors.

"Draco!" I shouted again, "Draco – where are you?"

"Hermione!" A hoarse voice called out, "Hermione, please come back!"

_That's Ron, _I thought, _he just doesn't give up...does he? _

Ignoring Ron's persistent shouts, I continued searching. 

_Maybe he's in the Slytherin common room, _I thought, _he knows the password because he asked Snape..._

Without thinking it over, I headed towards the dungeons. Ron had told me where the Slytherin common room was during our second year. (A/N: I don't know...I needed an excuse for her to know where the common room is...) At the time, I had laughed at him, telling him that he shouldn't bother telling me, because I would never need to know it. Now, however, I was grateful for Ron's determination and stubbornness, for he had gone into a detailed account about exactly where the Slytherin common room was. Fifteen minutes later, I had arrived there, but I couldn't help looking over my shoulder. The dungeons were cold and eerie. I wondered how the Slytherins could deal with the feeling that someone was always watching you, even in your "home".

_Maybe that's why they're so unpleasant,_ I thought. Then, remembering why I was here, I added as an afterthought, _well, most of them, anyway..._

I pounded on the stone wall that concealed the Slytherin common room. (A/N: Again, I don't know the entrance to the Slytherin common room, but...it's a FIC for god sake's, not the actual book...so don't get to critical over minor details)

"Draco! Draco...let me in! Please! I just want to -" but I stopped, listening closely. There was a shuffling noise on the other end of the door. I inhaled sharply. What if someone else was in the common room? What would I do then? They would probably ask why I was looking for Draco, and I would be mortified! Well, I would take my chances.

"Wha– what do you want?" Draco said. He knew it was me, for he had not even bothered asking who it was.

"I wanted to– to talk to you." I said it as a question. I was suddenly unsure of whether or not I should have been doing this. _Wouldn't Draco just throw it back in my face? After all...he WAS a Malfoy…HERMIONE!_ A voice in my head said, _that is extremely PREDJUDICE to assume that he is a bad person, even if he IS a Malfoy. Why don't you give him a chance? He WAS acting differently when we were alone. Maybe he's just misunderstood...maybe..._(A/N: I know, I know, just bear in mind that in this fic Hermione is VERY open-minded)__

"Why would you want to talk to me? Wouldn't you rather go back to Potter and Weasel and leave me here to dwell in my own misery? Why do you care? WHY?"

_See, _the voice inside my head said, _I was RIGHT! He did throw it back in your face. _

_Will you just SHUT UP!?_ I snapped at myself inwardly.

"I – I don't know," I said, "I just do." I could hear his scoff echoing off of the stone walls.

"Well – could you just leave?" He asked. There was no tone in his voice, so his request did not sound rude, but monotonous.

"But I want to help!" I said, moving closer to the wall. There was a few seconds of silence, in which he was thinking.

"You can't help me – I'm too fucked up," he said, after much consideration of wording.

"Trust me – no one is more fucked up than me," I reassured him. 

"Yeah...right..." he scoffed, "Hermione Granger: The smartest student Hogwarts has ever had, prefect AND Headgirl – you must be one hell of a fucked up girl – what's wrong with you?" he asked sarcastically.

"Hmm...I don't know..." I said, playing along.

He chuckled, and then said seriously "But why were you acting different on the train when we were alone?"

"I don't know..." I said slowly, "you weren't bugging me so I guess there was no reason to be cruel towards you. Why were YOU acting different?"

"The same I guess," he said.

"So – can I ask you something?" 

_You just did, _the annoying voice inside me head said. _Shut up!_ I thought. (A/N: In case you 

haven't noticed, Hermione can hear voices...)

"What?" Draco said slowly, as though he wasn't sure he was going to like what I was about to ask.

"What was that whole thing back there in the Great Hall?" I asked tentatively.

"I can't really explain...you wouldn't understand anyway...in fact -" but he stopped in mid-sentence.

"Draco?" I asked to make sure that he was still there.

"Hermione, I -"

"Yes?"

"I don't want to involve you. Trust me – you wouldn't want to know," he said.

"Try me," I said quietly.

"Hermione – I can't...do you know what happened over," he gulped, "over the – the summer?"

I flinched, taking a step backwards.

"W-what happened?" I managed to say, trying not to think about what had happened to ME over the summer.

"You haven't been reading _The Daily Prophet,_ have you?" he asked suddenly.

"No, why?" I asked.

"No reason," he said quickly...a little too quickly.

"So whatever happened to you over the summer is in _The Daily Prophet?_" I asked.

"Y-yeah," he sighed, "But its an old edition – I think," he said.

"What did Ron say to you?" I asked abruptly.

"Nothing," Draco said harshly, but I knew Ron had said something. All I had heard was the word "summer" and I had exploded on Ron. I was only halfway out of line, because Ron HAD provoked Draco, and Draco wasn't even going to start a fight - at least I didn't THINK Draco was going to start a fight.

"Hermione, you better get going before someone comes down the dungeons – you wouldn't want to look suspicious, would you?"

"I don't care," I said casually. There was an awkward silence, in which I counted the stones across the wall.

"Well – I guess I better be going," I said.

"Wait," he called out, "What happened to YOU over the summer?"

"I'd rather not talk about it," I said coldly. I realized a second later that the speck of water that hit the floor was not from a leak in the roof, but from me.

"Hermione – I can tell that something is wrong. And you're not talking to Potter and Weasley – so the least you can do is vent it all out, even if it is via me," he finished.

"What's the catch?" I asked, wiping my eyes.

"There is no catch," he said.

"Why are you bothering anyway? I'm just a petty mudblood – aren't I?" I asked.

"No – you're not," he said rather forcedly.

"That was a rhetorical question," I said.

"So?" he said.

"So I'm NOT a petty mudblood...this is news..." I said, ignoring his previous question, all the while reaching out and touching one of the stones. 

"Look – all that stuff I said in the past – about you being a...you know-"

"Mudblood?" I intervened, pressing my hand against a particularly large stone on the wall and leaning forward in an awkward position.

"Ye- yes. That was wrong – I don't think of you like that and I never have – it's just that...well-" but he stopped and a moment later the stone that I had pressed my hand materialized into Draco. I quickly took my hand off of Draco's chest, blushing slightly - as I HAD felt his muscles. He seemed to be embarrassed as well – opening his mouth and then closing it quickly several times. I looked up to his eyes and froze in surprise. His eyes were all red, as though he had been crying – but he hadn't been...had he?

"You – your eyes are all...red," I said, playing dumb, "what happened?"

"Nothing," he said, rubbing his right eye, but his tone of voice made me certain that he knew that I knew.

"You dropped something," I said, pointing to something near my right foot. As I picked it up, I recognized it as a newspaper clipping and I heard an obvious gasp. As the headline "Malfoy's Melee" darted across my eyes, I knew something was wrong. Draco snatched at the clipping out of my hands hastily and put it back inside his robes with extreme caution.

"What was that?" I asked quietly, in an attempt to keep him calm. His eyes, which were TRYING to conceal a mixture of fear, anger and grief, gleamed with panic. He shook his head vigorously, his jaw stiffening with every passing moment.

"That's the article – isn't it? The article about...what happened to you over the summer," I lowered my voice with the last few words.

"I think you should leave," he said, and I could tell he was purposely darting his eyes around, in a desperate attempt to distract himself from my stare.

"Like you said before, it's best if-" I began.

"It's best if you leave me – Hermione – NOW!" he said harshly. He looked up, mildly shocked.

"I'm sorry – I didn't mean – I just..." he shook his head, and whispering something very quietly, which I thought was the password, no doubt, he walked back into the stonewall. 

"Draco," I ran after him, but the stonewall became solid again. I pounded on the stones, shouting, "Draco let me in! You NEED to talk to someone, just like I do – I can tell! Please Draco!" I continued to pound on the door. I stopped a moment later, but I didn't hear his voice. Instead I heard a sort of whimpering coming from inside the wall. Was Draco crying? He was the only one inside the common room...or at least I THOUGHT so.

"Legacy," he whispered.

"Legacy?" I repeated, confused, but the stonewall dissolved in front of me and I entered the common room. The whimpering grew louder as I stepped closer to the green couch in the middle of the room.

"Draco?" I said timidly. I looked over the couch and saw Draco curled in a ball, shaking uncontrollably.

"DRACO!" I called out, jumping over the couch and shaking him.

"Her- Herm- Hermione," he stuttered in between sobs, "ple-pleas-please d-d-don't!"

"Draco – what's wrong? What happened? You can tell me – I know you need to talk to someone and I promise I won't say anything to anyone!"

"He-here! R-r-read this," he said, taking out something from his robes. I recognized it as the article from the _Daily Prophet. _I took the article from his pale fingers and read to myself:

Malfoy's Melee

Yesterday the ministry received a disturbing floo call **(a/n: Instead of phone call because I don't know what wizards do in case of emergencies, so a floo call is like a 911 call) from the Malfoy Manor. Lucius Malfoy, 41 **(a/n: I don't know if that is his age exactly) claimed that there was an intruder breaking into his house. Without another word, he hung up. Several floo moderators, after reporting the floo call to the High Flooer **(a/n: think high inquisitor...someone who would be a chief police who would take over investigations and so on.) reported that Lucius's voice did not sound frightful, as one would expect, but monotonous, and even, as Devon Wellington, Unspeakable #35 of sector 2MLH-B9 **(a/n: that's how I'm going to classify them) had suggested, if he had been forced to say so. Others argue that this is of course just a way for Malfoy to reinstate his suave demeanor that so many of us are used to. Either way, when investigators later arrived, they found both Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy dead. Their son, Draco, who is attending his final year at Hogwarts, claimed to be at Mr. Nicholas Borgin's shop **(a/n: In the book, it says how Mr. Borgin's shop is full of Dark Art things, which would technically be illegal, but I'm making it legal for now ^_^ again – this is not the book, I need to alter some things, so please be lenient) at the occurrence of the murder. Borgins seemed a bit nervous about presenting young Malfoy with an alibi, but he did do so, though Wellington does claim that Malfoy might have threatened and/or bribed Barkins. For a full analysis on Wellington's theory of as well as discounts on his new book on physiological backfire entitled "Dangerous Minds," turn to page 2. For a statement Cornelius Fudge made today about the Malfoy Murder Mystery, turn to page 4.

I stood there, shocked, not knowing what to do. Here I was, trying to forget about my own parents' death, and now I was forced to remember it. But then again, Draco's parents were murdered and my parents' death was an accident.

"Oh Draco," I said closely, pulling him off of the floor and onto the couch.

"It's just so...hard," he said, once he had stopped crying.

"I know...I know," I said, my eyes beginning to water.

"You know? You KNOW? How would YOU know?!" he snarled nastily. I glared at him angrily, and then slapped him.

"Go to hell!" I yelled, shoving him off of the couch as I ran out of the Slytherin Common Room, crying.

A/N: **Sorry about the numerous a/n's during the article...Okay...first of all, let me clear up one thing. The joke "Down boy, down" was aimed at Goyle because he was _rather excited_ (or more plainly – horny) at the fact that Draco might have been raping Hermione. Do I need to go into any further explanations about…*COUGH* DIURNAL EMMISIONS *COUGH*? I think not…I am sorry that I didn't make it clearer, but Hermione DID kiss her cousin. She did it because she needed comforting over her dead parents and he was her only "resource" available. He did it because he got caught up in the moment. (If you want to argue that he is a sick pervert that fine, it doesn't matter, the only important issue is the reason WHY Hermione kissed him. To see further explanations – reread that scene in chapter one – it explains why she kissed him). Instead of saying Headboy and Headgirl – I say the Heads or just Heads. Is that okay? Whatever... And by the way, if some of you like my writing style or just my story in general – you should check out my other story "Confused" by Blood57. Thank you for those who reviewed and for those who didn't, go review NOW!!!! 

** DON'T FORGET TO CHECK OUT "CONFUSED" BY BLOOD57!!! **

*^~^*BLOOD57*^~^*****


	3. Chapter 2 updated

I updated chapter two...so I don't know why it isn't showing up on my author's page...


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